oh fucking hell
Jul. 12th, 2002 11:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archivethis has got to be the funniest shit i've seen in ages.
let spiderman make you gay
in other news, i'm about nine pages into the skinny dipping fic. it now has dialogue and i'm moving on to lex wearing black boxers. go me. lex in black boxers. wow. warm in here isn't it?
updated at 1:40pm NEW CHALLENGE: The Crayola Challenge
~ * ~
Between voyeurism and exhibitionism, Lex really isn’t that picky. There’s always someone watching, all the better when they’re watching *him*. As a general concept, Lex considers being watched a quasi-turn on. Countless eyes studying his every movement, counting his every breath, listening to every word that passes his lips. Lex likes being the center of attention and performing for an audience.
Being relegated *to* the audience is not high on his list of thrills; it lies somewhere between being hung from the rafters and being hit on by Lana Lang. However, Shakespeare said it best: the world is a stage, and if that’s the case, Clark Kent deserves a Tony award.
Sometimes it’s better to be the watcher rather than the watchee, especially when the watchee thinks he’s alone. Especially when the watchee is built like an Abercrombie and Fitch model. Lex can’t stand the clothing, but the ads are definitely worth their place in Vanity Fair.
Clark could be a model with all those clean lines and smooth skin, forget about the mouth. Forget about the water. Who knew that water from a hole in the ground could be so exotic. Lex knows an agent at Wilhelmina Models who would have a fucking heart attack if he saw Clark like this.
Lex has to make a point of never calling him. He doesn’t mind being selfish, Lex doesn’t mind not sharing with his fellow man. His fellow man would probably try and get in Clark’s jeans too, and being an only child for so long really didn’t help Lex’s sense of fairness.
‘Fair’ is actually the only four-letter word not allowed in the Luthor manor, which is exactly why Lex has no qualms about watching Clark this way. No one else seems to want to.
At least no one worthwhile.
Smallville should be called Blindville; Lex has never seen so many willfully ignorant people that weren’t on the LuthorCorp payroll. Maybe that’s why Lex observes so much, because no one else does, apart from Chloe Sullivan and she’s bordering on obsessive.
Still Lex doesn’t mind watching Clark. He doesn’t mind blending into the scenery if it means he can study Clark unobserved. Unobstructed, save that stupid tree stump by the edge of the water.
Lex has seen the way that Clark tries to meld into the background with the slump of his flannel-covered shoulders and his mumbled answers. Lex has watched Clark try to contain himself when he shouldn’t, when his life could be so much easier if he just let it all hang out.
Proverbially speaking of course.
But Lex has never had that problem. Lex has the opposite issue, sometimes he’s so *there* that he can’t hide. That he can’t blend in. He’s had to work hard at learning to be like everyone else. It’s certainly not a skill his father would approve of, but that’s why Lex will succeed where Lionel has failed. That’s why Clark hasn’t seen Lex yet, because Lex doesn’t want him to.
Lex wants to watch. He wants to examine Clark when he’s not hiding behind whatever the secret of the week is. Lex is trying really hard not to be seen, but he’s not quite sure how long he can blend in with a bush of azaleas and something that he’s praying isn’t poison oak.
It could all be worth it if he can get in a few more minute of quality Clark watching time. A few more minutes of praying that Clark does some sort of swimming somersault or dives under to look for whatever people find on the bottom of swimming holes. Lex actually just wants to see as much wet, naked Clark as he possibly can. It’s doubtful, it’s all equally unlikely to happen, but Clark wasn’t likely to be naked on Lex’s afternoon walk either, so who knows what could happen next.
Lex just wants to see if Clark’s actually putting the skinny in skinny-dipping.
All the evidence is in Lex’s favor. The clothes by the bank are definitely Clark’s. Lex would recognize that appalling check print anywhere, and there’s only one pile, so at least Lex doesn’t have to worry that some perky young thing with XX chromosomes is about to interrupt his idyllic existence. Which could also beg the question as to *what* exactly Clark is doing out here. What else he *could* be doing out here: hidden in the trees, away from prying eyes, except going naked.
Clark naked.
Naked Clark, any way Lex thinks about it, it’s an excellent idea. Definitely one that Lex supports however it comes to pass. Even if it’s not fully happening, it doesn’t really matter. Clark’s naked as far as Lex can tell; and if Lex’s imagination wants to run rampant with that idea then there is no way he’s going to stop it. Not when it’s rocketing ahead of every part of Lex, with the possible exception of his cock, which probably figured out what was happening long before his brain did.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
Lex only pictures Clark *this* naked when he’s in the shower, or having a particularly irritating conversation with his father.
This scene could provide Lex with material well into the next decade.
Between the sunlight bouncing off the water and the appalling lush greenery around the swimming hole, this scene is way too close to ‘picturesque.’ Lex might be tempted to start quoting Emerson if there wasn’t a naked Clark in the middle of the entire menagerie making the whole thing XXX-rated.
Maybe Whitman would be more appropriate.
Maybe this is only a PG-13 movie with an NC-17 illusion.
That would really… suck, but it is a distinct possibility.
There is every chance that Clark is wearing briefs or those classic blue-checked boxers that brought him such great karmic luck as the scarecrow. Hell, Clark could be wearing his jeans and boots…in a swimming hole.
It must be the sun affecting Lex’s brain. Except that Lex is in the shade, and he’s seen Clark’s shirt by the tree stump, which means that to get dressed Clark has to get out, eventually.
Clark wet. Wet Clark.
The idea alone is enough to send Lex reeling, or wandering, or going places he’s never been in his entire life.
Lex’s cock must have a homing beacon where Clark Kent is concerned. He figures it has to because he never could’ve found this swimming hole of his own accord. He’s not even sure where the hell he is. Not that that’s really important, it’s certainly not something he’s going to examine too closely.
Not if the implications start screaming ‘stalker’ at him, because Lex isn’t a stalker. Lex doesn’t follow, he leads, so he didn’t follow his cock to this swimming hole, it led him there.
If that reasoning seems a bit flawed, he’s not going to examine it too closely. Besides, Lex is sure he was on his own property 20 minutes ago, okay, maybe 45 minutes ago, but it’s not as though Lex *actively* went searching for this particular spot. When Mrs. Kent said Clark had gone swimming, she could’ve been talking about the Municipal Pool or any other swimming hole in town.
Clark could have been swimming anywhere, but he’s swimming *here*, in this hideaway that’s shaded by enormous oak and maple trees. Clark is swimming, ostensibly naked, in this postcard from Playgirl Goes Camping.
That issue never really interested Lex before, but he’s adaptable, and Lex is *not* stalking, he’s just not out in the open. And he’s not staring, he’s just ‘observing.’ It’s kind of hard for him not to with the way that Clark is gliding back and forth, his long, golden arms parting the dark water like Moses.
Biblical references are never a good indication in Lex’s mind.
If Clark was in the chlorinated *clear* pool in the castle, Lex wouldn’t have to be wondering about the state of Clark’s nakedness. If they were at the castle, however, Clark probably wouldn’t be skinny-dipping at all.
Screw the castle. Lex can do nature. Lex can do voyeurism.
Lex cannot stand here for the rest of his life when there’s something crawling on his arm. Despite running a shit plant, Lex hates nature.
Lex is an indoors kind of man. He fences and has a treadmill. Lex is a businessman. A businessman that should know better then to be hiding in the bushes like a Peeping Tom.
Nobody’s perfect.
Even Lex. That’s why he shifts slightly and steps on that twig. Not because Lex actually *wants* to be caught by Clark or anything. It’s not because of some sort of unconscious desire or anything. No, of course not.
Right. Freud would have a field day.
“Who’s… *Lex*?”
It’s always nice to be expected, even when he’s not really expected.
“You were expecting the Tooth Fairy?” Lex *could* be the Tooth Fairy, well, he’s a kind of fairy at any rate. At least that’s what his father said a few months ago.
“Lex, were you…where did you…”
“Always nice to see you too, Clark.” Clark. God, Clark who’s wet and wondering and coming closer to the edge of the watering hole. That’s it, a bit closer a bit more skin exposure. Wait, are those nipples?
Lex’s original Mapplethorpe doesn’t give him this many thrills.
“I was just…where’d you come from?”
“Well, there’s this thing, Clark, it’s called sex. Among heterosexuals it involves a man and a woman, and sometimes…”
“*Lex*.”
“You asked, I’m just answering.” Clark never even let him get to the good part. Lex never even got to the schematics, let alone the homosexual definition.
“Lex, I meant what are you doing out here?” In the middle of nowhere. It’s called Kansas.
“It’s called walking, Clark. Left leg, right leg, your body will follow.”
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t trying, I guess it just comes naturally.” Naturally like nature. Lex likes nature. He fucking loves nature and he thanks Mother Nature for taking it upon herself to hide his erection behind this very convenient bush.
“I meant what are you doing *here*?”
“Well, there was this incident in Metropolis. It involved my mother marrying my father, and twenty-one years later here I am.”
“Lex, this is all fascinating…”
“But you’ve heard it all before, right?”
“Even I’ve heard about the birds and the bees… or the cows and the bulls.”
Cows and birds and bulls and bees, and Clark referencing Lex’s parents having sex. There is no erection on earth that can withstand that much assault.
Lex can come out now, but maybe he should keep his hands in his pockets. Just to be on the safe side.
“Is there any particular reason you were hiding behind that bush?” Because Clark is semi-naked in a hole in the ground.
“I wanted to get you used to the intrusion.”
“By talking to a disembodied Lex? You’re not intruding, by the way. I think this might actually be your property.”
“You’re Alexander too, make yourself at home. Besides, you seemed a bit startled when I first appeared.” Actually, Clark was complete engrossed elsewhere when Lex stumbled upon this little tableau but Lex doesn’t need to mention overhearing Clark’s tone-deaf rendition of Prince’s ‘1999.’
Personally, Lex would’ve gone for something a bit more appropriate, like ‘Soft and Wet’ or ‘Wonderful Ass.’
“Okay, yeah, but it’s okay now. I was kind of worried there for a second, you seemed really fond of that plant.” It was Lex’s bestest friend for while. Maybe he should have it removed to someplace near the castle. No, that might kill it.
“I take it you’re not a big azalea fan?”
“I’ve never been that close with one before.” Lex has.
“Remind me to tell you about Freshers Week at Oxford sometime.”
“I thought – you didn’t go to Oxford, Lex.”
“I didn’t have to.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t get it, do you, Clark?”
“If I say ‘no,’ you’ll think I’m stupid, but if I say ‘yes,’ I’ll never get to hear the story.”
“How about I just tell you that it involved big azalea bushes, nudity and a first-year student named Jamie.”
“Was she pretty?”
“I don’t think Jamie was pretty, attractive is probably a better word.” Men hate being called ‘pretty.’
“Oh.”
Clark can’t possibly be blushing, maybe it’s all the heat, maybe it’s the water. It *is* really hot out today, which is exactly why Lex is wandering around in gabardine trousers and a long-sleeve shirt. Riiight. He was just taking his afternoon walk, under the glare of a 95-degree Kansas sky.
Maybe he was just passing by in search of something refreshing, like a cool Clark. Yes, that’s his excuse, he’s going to stick to it and pray it doesn’t fall apart, or start getting dressed.
The refreshing part has merit though, maybe Lex *should* go swimming, as soon as he checks out the temperature of the water.
“It’s not quite as cold as I thought it would be.”
“It feels really good.” Lex bets it does.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Shoes. Socks.
“Lex, um, what are you doing?”
“There’s this other thing, Clark, it’s called swimming. Sometimes it requires some skill, but in places such as these I think it just requires a lack of clothing and not drowning.” At least that’s how Lex *thinks* things like this work. He’s never actually been to a swimming hole before, so there’s only one way to find out. Tie. Shirt.
“You’re coming *in*?” No, Lex was just going to sit on the sidelines and stare. He’s not a sick pervert, besides now that his erection is gone he can get undressed in front of Clark with a minimal amount of freakiness.
“Do you have a problem with that, Clark?”
“Yes, no. I mean no.”
Hand on the waistband of his pants, and Lex thinks that that look on Clark’s face might be panic. It’s the hairlessness, it must be.
“It’s not everywhere you know.”
“What, who? What’s not everywhere, Lex?”
“The whole hairlessness thing, it’s not everywhere.” No, but the freckles are, damnit.
“I’m sorry, what made you just say that?”
“You were staring, I thought you should know.”
“I wasn’t staring at you, I mean not like that.”
Uh huh. Why else would Clark be looking at him like a deer in the road while Lex is drag racing out on Route 19? Are Lex’s intentions *that* clear?
“Clark, I don’t have to get in if you don’t want me to.”
“I’m sorry, Lex, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…”
He’s just what? What the hell is going on here? If it’s not the whole semi-naked Lex thing, Lex is at a loss. Oh, well.
“Clark, it’s a swimming hole. I won’t die if I don’t go for a swim, that’s why we have a pool at the castle.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the same.”
“Right, so I’m just supposed to stand on the banks, watch you swim and get vicarious thrills?” Just like he’s been doing for the last 15 minutes. Well, if Clark doesn’t mind, Lex is sure that the resulting grass stains will come out of his pants, eventually.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Look, Clark, if you’re expecting a hot date or something, you can tell me.” So Lex can put a convenient end to the competition right now.
“No, Lex. I, this is a bit embarrassing.”
“What’s a bit embarrassing about swimming in a hole?”
“It’s not the hole part, it’s the other part.” The part that Clark is motioning to by Lex’s feet. Lex’s feet are the problem? No, maybe it’s his tie. Or maybe it’s his tie resting on Clark’s boxers. Ah, now he gets it.
Naked Clark. *Really* naked Clark.
“Let me guess, they don’t teach about nudity in Kansas public schools?”
“*Lex*.”
“I never actually thought you were dressed, if it counts.” No, Lex just prayed.
“You don’t, don’t mind?”
Mind. *Mind*? Lex would be disappointed beyond all reckoning if Clark actually *was* wearing underwear, although perhaps if Clark was wearing tighty whities he might be redeemed. Clark wearing wet briefs could redeem anything that could happen to Lex. Head trauma and psychotic axe wielding father included.
“Clark. Male. Twenty-one. Educated at a boarding school where sports were a requirement. Ask me again if I mind seeing another man naked.”
Mind, pray, wish fervently, whatever.
TBC...
let spiderman make you gay
in other news, i'm about nine pages into the skinny dipping fic. it now has dialogue and i'm moving on to lex wearing black boxers. go me. lex in black boxers. wow. warm in here isn't it?
updated at 1:40pm NEW CHALLENGE: The Crayola Challenge
~ * ~
Between voyeurism and exhibitionism, Lex really isn’t that picky. There’s always someone watching, all the better when they’re watching *him*. As a general concept, Lex considers being watched a quasi-turn on. Countless eyes studying his every movement, counting his every breath, listening to every word that passes his lips. Lex likes being the center of attention and performing for an audience.
Being relegated *to* the audience is not high on his list of thrills; it lies somewhere between being hung from the rafters and being hit on by Lana Lang. However, Shakespeare said it best: the world is a stage, and if that’s the case, Clark Kent deserves a Tony award.
Sometimes it’s better to be the watcher rather than the watchee, especially when the watchee thinks he’s alone. Especially when the watchee is built like an Abercrombie and Fitch model. Lex can’t stand the clothing, but the ads are definitely worth their place in Vanity Fair.
Clark could be a model with all those clean lines and smooth skin, forget about the mouth. Forget about the water. Who knew that water from a hole in the ground could be so exotic. Lex knows an agent at Wilhelmina Models who would have a fucking heart attack if he saw Clark like this.
Lex has to make a point of never calling him. He doesn’t mind being selfish, Lex doesn’t mind not sharing with his fellow man. His fellow man would probably try and get in Clark’s jeans too, and being an only child for so long really didn’t help Lex’s sense of fairness.
‘Fair’ is actually the only four-letter word not allowed in the Luthor manor, which is exactly why Lex has no qualms about watching Clark this way. No one else seems to want to.
At least no one worthwhile.
Smallville should be called Blindville; Lex has never seen so many willfully ignorant people that weren’t on the LuthorCorp payroll. Maybe that’s why Lex observes so much, because no one else does, apart from Chloe Sullivan and she’s bordering on obsessive.
Still Lex doesn’t mind watching Clark. He doesn’t mind blending into the scenery if it means he can study Clark unobserved. Unobstructed, save that stupid tree stump by the edge of the water.
Lex has seen the way that Clark tries to meld into the background with the slump of his flannel-covered shoulders and his mumbled answers. Lex has watched Clark try to contain himself when he shouldn’t, when his life could be so much easier if he just let it all hang out.
Proverbially speaking of course.
But Lex has never had that problem. Lex has the opposite issue, sometimes he’s so *there* that he can’t hide. That he can’t blend in. He’s had to work hard at learning to be like everyone else. It’s certainly not a skill his father would approve of, but that’s why Lex will succeed where Lionel has failed. That’s why Clark hasn’t seen Lex yet, because Lex doesn’t want him to.
Lex wants to watch. He wants to examine Clark when he’s not hiding behind whatever the secret of the week is. Lex is trying really hard not to be seen, but he’s not quite sure how long he can blend in with a bush of azaleas and something that he’s praying isn’t poison oak.
It could all be worth it if he can get in a few more minute of quality Clark watching time. A few more minutes of praying that Clark does some sort of swimming somersault or dives under to look for whatever people find on the bottom of swimming holes. Lex actually just wants to see as much wet, naked Clark as he possibly can. It’s doubtful, it’s all equally unlikely to happen, but Clark wasn’t likely to be naked on Lex’s afternoon walk either, so who knows what could happen next.
Lex just wants to see if Clark’s actually putting the skinny in skinny-dipping.
All the evidence is in Lex’s favor. The clothes by the bank are definitely Clark’s. Lex would recognize that appalling check print anywhere, and there’s only one pile, so at least Lex doesn’t have to worry that some perky young thing with XX chromosomes is about to interrupt his idyllic existence. Which could also beg the question as to *what* exactly Clark is doing out here. What else he *could* be doing out here: hidden in the trees, away from prying eyes, except going naked.
Clark naked.
Naked Clark, any way Lex thinks about it, it’s an excellent idea. Definitely one that Lex supports however it comes to pass. Even if it’s not fully happening, it doesn’t really matter. Clark’s naked as far as Lex can tell; and if Lex’s imagination wants to run rampant with that idea then there is no way he’s going to stop it. Not when it’s rocketing ahead of every part of Lex, with the possible exception of his cock, which probably figured out what was happening long before his brain did.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
Lex only pictures Clark *this* naked when he’s in the shower, or having a particularly irritating conversation with his father.
This scene could provide Lex with material well into the next decade.
Between the sunlight bouncing off the water and the appalling lush greenery around the swimming hole, this scene is way too close to ‘picturesque.’ Lex might be tempted to start quoting Emerson if there wasn’t a naked Clark in the middle of the entire menagerie making the whole thing XXX-rated.
Maybe Whitman would be more appropriate.
Maybe this is only a PG-13 movie with an NC-17 illusion.
That would really… suck, but it is a distinct possibility.
There is every chance that Clark is wearing briefs or those classic blue-checked boxers that brought him such great karmic luck as the scarecrow. Hell, Clark could be wearing his jeans and boots…in a swimming hole.
It must be the sun affecting Lex’s brain. Except that Lex is in the shade, and he’s seen Clark’s shirt by the tree stump, which means that to get dressed Clark has to get out, eventually.
Clark wet. Wet Clark.
The idea alone is enough to send Lex reeling, or wandering, or going places he’s never been in his entire life.
Lex’s cock must have a homing beacon where Clark Kent is concerned. He figures it has to because he never could’ve found this swimming hole of his own accord. He’s not even sure where the hell he is. Not that that’s really important, it’s certainly not something he’s going to examine too closely.
Not if the implications start screaming ‘stalker’ at him, because Lex isn’t a stalker. Lex doesn’t follow, he leads, so he didn’t follow his cock to this swimming hole, it led him there.
If that reasoning seems a bit flawed, he’s not going to examine it too closely. Besides, Lex is sure he was on his own property 20 minutes ago, okay, maybe 45 minutes ago, but it’s not as though Lex *actively* went searching for this particular spot. When Mrs. Kent said Clark had gone swimming, she could’ve been talking about the Municipal Pool or any other swimming hole in town.
Clark could have been swimming anywhere, but he’s swimming *here*, in this hideaway that’s shaded by enormous oak and maple trees. Clark is swimming, ostensibly naked, in this postcard from Playgirl Goes Camping.
That issue never really interested Lex before, but he’s adaptable, and Lex is *not* stalking, he’s just not out in the open. And he’s not staring, he’s just ‘observing.’ It’s kind of hard for him not to with the way that Clark is gliding back and forth, his long, golden arms parting the dark water like Moses.
Biblical references are never a good indication in Lex’s mind.
If Clark was in the chlorinated *clear* pool in the castle, Lex wouldn’t have to be wondering about the state of Clark’s nakedness. If they were at the castle, however, Clark probably wouldn’t be skinny-dipping at all.
Screw the castle. Lex can do nature. Lex can do voyeurism.
Lex cannot stand here for the rest of his life when there’s something crawling on his arm. Despite running a shit plant, Lex hates nature.
Lex is an indoors kind of man. He fences and has a treadmill. Lex is a businessman. A businessman that should know better then to be hiding in the bushes like a Peeping Tom.
Nobody’s perfect.
Even Lex. That’s why he shifts slightly and steps on that twig. Not because Lex actually *wants* to be caught by Clark or anything. It’s not because of some sort of unconscious desire or anything. No, of course not.
Right. Freud would have a field day.
“Who’s… *Lex*?”
It’s always nice to be expected, even when he’s not really expected.
“You were expecting the Tooth Fairy?” Lex *could* be the Tooth Fairy, well, he’s a kind of fairy at any rate. At least that’s what his father said a few months ago.
“Lex, were you…where did you…”
“Always nice to see you too, Clark.” Clark. God, Clark who’s wet and wondering and coming closer to the edge of the watering hole. That’s it, a bit closer a bit more skin exposure. Wait, are those nipples?
Lex’s original Mapplethorpe doesn’t give him this many thrills.
“I was just…where’d you come from?”
“Well, there’s this thing, Clark, it’s called sex. Among heterosexuals it involves a man and a woman, and sometimes…”
“*Lex*.”
“You asked, I’m just answering.” Clark never even let him get to the good part. Lex never even got to the schematics, let alone the homosexual definition.
“Lex, I meant what are you doing out here?” In the middle of nowhere. It’s called Kansas.
“It’s called walking, Clark. Left leg, right leg, your body will follow.”
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t trying, I guess it just comes naturally.” Naturally like nature. Lex likes nature. He fucking loves nature and he thanks Mother Nature for taking it upon herself to hide his erection behind this very convenient bush.
“I meant what are you doing *here*?”
“Well, there was this incident in Metropolis. It involved my mother marrying my father, and twenty-one years later here I am.”
“Lex, this is all fascinating…”
“But you’ve heard it all before, right?”
“Even I’ve heard about the birds and the bees… or the cows and the bulls.”
Cows and birds and bulls and bees, and Clark referencing Lex’s parents having sex. There is no erection on earth that can withstand that much assault.
Lex can come out now, but maybe he should keep his hands in his pockets. Just to be on the safe side.
“Is there any particular reason you were hiding behind that bush?” Because Clark is semi-naked in a hole in the ground.
“I wanted to get you used to the intrusion.”
“By talking to a disembodied Lex? You’re not intruding, by the way. I think this might actually be your property.”
“You’re Alexander too, make yourself at home. Besides, you seemed a bit startled when I first appeared.” Actually, Clark was complete engrossed elsewhere when Lex stumbled upon this little tableau but Lex doesn’t need to mention overhearing Clark’s tone-deaf rendition of Prince’s ‘1999.’
Personally, Lex would’ve gone for something a bit more appropriate, like ‘Soft and Wet’ or ‘Wonderful Ass.’
“Okay, yeah, but it’s okay now. I was kind of worried there for a second, you seemed really fond of that plant.” It was Lex’s bestest friend for while. Maybe he should have it removed to someplace near the castle. No, that might kill it.
“I take it you’re not a big azalea fan?”
“I’ve never been that close with one before.” Lex has.
“Remind me to tell you about Freshers Week at Oxford sometime.”
“I thought – you didn’t go to Oxford, Lex.”
“I didn’t have to.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t get it, do you, Clark?”
“If I say ‘no,’ you’ll think I’m stupid, but if I say ‘yes,’ I’ll never get to hear the story.”
“How about I just tell you that it involved big azalea bushes, nudity and a first-year student named Jamie.”
“Was she pretty?”
“I don’t think Jamie was pretty, attractive is probably a better word.” Men hate being called ‘pretty.’
“Oh.”
Clark can’t possibly be blushing, maybe it’s all the heat, maybe it’s the water. It *is* really hot out today, which is exactly why Lex is wandering around in gabardine trousers and a long-sleeve shirt. Riiight. He was just taking his afternoon walk, under the glare of a 95-degree Kansas sky.
Maybe he was just passing by in search of something refreshing, like a cool Clark. Yes, that’s his excuse, he’s going to stick to it and pray it doesn’t fall apart, or start getting dressed.
The refreshing part has merit though, maybe Lex *should* go swimming, as soon as he checks out the temperature of the water.
“It’s not quite as cold as I thought it would be.”
“It feels really good.” Lex bets it does.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Shoes. Socks.
“Lex, um, what are you doing?”
“There’s this other thing, Clark, it’s called swimming. Sometimes it requires some skill, but in places such as these I think it just requires a lack of clothing and not drowning.” At least that’s how Lex *thinks* things like this work. He’s never actually been to a swimming hole before, so there’s only one way to find out. Tie. Shirt.
“You’re coming *in*?” No, Lex was just going to sit on the sidelines and stare. He’s not a sick pervert, besides now that his erection is gone he can get undressed in front of Clark with a minimal amount of freakiness.
“Do you have a problem with that, Clark?”
“Yes, no. I mean no.”
Hand on the waistband of his pants, and Lex thinks that that look on Clark’s face might be panic. It’s the hairlessness, it must be.
“It’s not everywhere you know.”
“What, who? What’s not everywhere, Lex?”
“The whole hairlessness thing, it’s not everywhere.” No, but the freckles are, damnit.
“I’m sorry, what made you just say that?”
“You were staring, I thought you should know.”
“I wasn’t staring at you, I mean not like that.”
Uh huh. Why else would Clark be looking at him like a deer in the road while Lex is drag racing out on Route 19? Are Lex’s intentions *that* clear?
“Clark, I don’t have to get in if you don’t want me to.”
“I’m sorry, Lex, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…”
He’s just what? What the hell is going on here? If it’s not the whole semi-naked Lex thing, Lex is at a loss. Oh, well.
“Clark, it’s a swimming hole. I won’t die if I don’t go for a swim, that’s why we have a pool at the castle.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the same.”
“Right, so I’m just supposed to stand on the banks, watch you swim and get vicarious thrills?” Just like he’s been doing for the last 15 minutes. Well, if Clark doesn’t mind, Lex is sure that the resulting grass stains will come out of his pants, eventually.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Look, Clark, if you’re expecting a hot date or something, you can tell me.” So Lex can put a convenient end to the competition right now.
“No, Lex. I, this is a bit embarrassing.”
“What’s a bit embarrassing about swimming in a hole?”
“It’s not the hole part, it’s the other part.” The part that Clark is motioning to by Lex’s feet. Lex’s feet are the problem? No, maybe it’s his tie. Or maybe it’s his tie resting on Clark’s boxers. Ah, now he gets it.
Naked Clark. *Really* naked Clark.
“Let me guess, they don’t teach about nudity in Kansas public schools?”
“*Lex*.”
“I never actually thought you were dressed, if it counts.” No, Lex just prayed.
“You don’t, don’t mind?”
Mind. *Mind*? Lex would be disappointed beyond all reckoning if Clark actually *was* wearing underwear, although perhaps if Clark was wearing tighty whities he might be redeemed. Clark wearing wet briefs could redeem anything that could happen to Lex. Head trauma and psychotic axe wielding father included.
“Clark. Male. Twenty-one. Educated at a boarding school where sports were a requirement. Ask me again if I mind seeing another man naked.”
Mind, pray, wish fervently, whatever.
TBC...
